


I've Got This Friend

by edema_ruh



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Academy Era Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons, Adorable FitzSimmons (Agents of SHIELD), Basically Fitz is sick and Jemma takes care of him, Because she's such a good friend and doctor, Cold, F/M, Fever, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Leo Fitz, Hurt/Comfort, I miss when they were tiny science babies so this is what happened, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons Friendship, Pre-Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Pre-Relationship, SHIELD Academy, SHIELD Academy Era, Sick Leo Fitz, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, also this can be read as gen or as pre-relationship? suit yourself, i love them both so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 19:32:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13278378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edema_ruh/pseuds/edema_ruh
Summary: Fitz has a cold and Jemma takes care of him. That's what best friends are for, right?Just some fluff in this Fitzsimmons time of need.





	I've Got This Friend

Fitz closed his eyes as fast as he had opened them, wincing at the thin streak of light coming from his window. The groan that slipped his lips was muffled by the pillow against his face, and that only served to make him bury his face deeper into the soft fabric. He wanted to get up and pull the curtains of his dorm room close more tightly, but the mere thought of getting to his feet made his whole body shiver with repulse. Instead, he simply drew his covers closer to his face and turned on his side so that the daylight coming from outside wouldn’t reach his eyes. Like that, he fell asleep, completely forgetting about the lecture he was supposed to attend to with Simmons and his project half-forgotten in his working table.

He slept for hours, but for him, it felt like minutes since he last closed his eyes. There was someone talking to him and calling his name, a familiar voice that was friendly enough to rise him from his slumber, but that earned his annoyance all the same. He wanted to _sleep_ , for god’s sake. Why was whoever it was trying to wake him up? He opened his eyes again and it took him longer than it should to recognize Jemma sitting at the edge of his bed, a worried look on her face and a cool hand reaching for his forehead. Before he could do anything to stop her, her hand connected with his skin and she let out a tiny gasp, face growing even more concerned, if that was even possible.

“Oh, Fitz!”, she said, pity evident in her tone. “You’re burning up. What did you get yourself into this time?”, she stood up from his bed, disappearing from his limited view, and Fitz didn’t bother to follow her with his eyes as he normally would. He was so tired. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Leave me alone, Simmons”, he muttered, voice sounding nasal and still muffled by his pillow. “I’ll sleep it off”, he groaned, closing his eyes again.

“I should have noticed that there was something wrong when you didn’t show up to Professor Vaughn’s lecture”, she continued talking as she fussed with something in his nightstand drawer, completely ignoring Fitz’s request for her to leave. “At first I thought you had given up, of course. I was almost giving up and falling asleep myself. But I thought ‘no, Fitz wouldn’t do that, he knows how important this lecture is and he wouldn’t risk falling behind and having to take this class again next semester’”.

“You’re rambling, Jemma”, Fitz said, attempting to bury his face deeper into his pillow. Usually, he loved listening to her voice, since she was the only person on the Academy who he could actually talk to, but on that moment, his fuzzy brain was too tired to properly make sense of her words and she was keeping him from going back to his much needed, much desired sleep. He knew that Simmons only rambled when she was worried about something (or in this case, someone), but the only thing that mattered to him on that moment was sleeping.

“I should have come looking for you sooner”, Simmons continued, again ignoring Fitz. If anything, the fact that he had just called her by her first name made her even more worried. Fitz only ever called her Jemma when he was being either serious or unusually affectionate to her. “But I figured you were caught up in your new project. It was when you didn’t show up for dinner that I got really worried”, she continued. This made Fitz frown, and he finally opened his eyes, raising his head from his pillow as if to finally properly look at her.

“Dinner?”, he slurred tiredly, eyes glassy from sickness and cheeks flushed from his fever. “Wha’ time is it?”, he asked.

“It’s fifteen past ten, Fitz”, Simmons told him in an almost apologetic tone, sitting back down at the edge of his bed with a thermometer in hands. She shook it a few times before unceremoniously pressing it into his lips. “You’ve been in bed the whole day. You should have told me!”, she scolded him, but there was more concern in her tone than actual anger. “I could have helped you sooner”.

“I was asleep”, Fitz tried to say past the thermometer in his mouth, but Simmons gave him a warning look that told him to be careful and not speak until she got his temperature.

“Yes, of course you were”, Simmons shook her head comprehensively, idly waiting for the thermometer to beep. “You probably spent the whole day without eating or drinking anything, didn’t you?”, she asked motherly. Fitz hummed low, allowing his eyes to slip close again. He felt Simmons place a comforting hand against his shoulder and couldn’t repress the pleased shiver that ran through his body. He was beginning to doze off when the thermometer beeped, and Simmons removed it from his mouth. He didn’t open his eyes.

“You’re not saying anything”, he commented, when Simmons remained silent for too long. “Is it too bad?”

“102”, Simmons told him worriedly, and he could feel her weight disappear from beside him as she stood up from the bed again and placed the thermometer on the top of the nightstand. “Ok”, she said, sounding like she was trying to reassure herself, rather than Fitz. “You stay right there. I’m going to take some antibiotics from the lab and something for you to eat”.

“I’m not hungry”, Fitz whined in a childlike manner. The idea of having to chew, swallow, or eat anything made him nauseous.

“Fitz, the last time you ate something was…”, she trailed off, trying to remember the information. “Probably during lunch, _yesterday_. That tiny apple you had for dinner doesn’t count. I don’t need my PhDs in biochemistry to know that your blood sugar must be low right now. Plus, you can’t take the antibiotics on an empty stomach. Don’t get out of bed, I’ll be right back”, she instructed. Fitz reopened his eyes just in time to see her disappearing through the door of his room, clicking it close silently behind her. Fitz thanked himself that his roommate wasn’t around to see him sick like this, probably crashing on one of his many friends’ rooms. They didn’t exactly get along very well. In fact, Fitz didn’t exactly get along with anyone _at all_ , except for Simmons. She was the only one who didn’t deem him too awkward to be befriended. Suddenly, a warm sense of affection erupted in his chest, and he sighed contentedly. Even though he was sick, Simmons was still talking to him, and even taking care of him. Who needed his roommate or any other friends in the academy, when he had her? She was the best friend he could ask for in the world. As long as she was by his side, he knew he would be ok and recover from any injury or sickness.

He didn’t even realize his eyes had closed again, or that he had fallen back asleep, until there was another shift of weight in his bed and he parted his lids to find Simmons sitting beside him once more, the concern in her eyes smothered down by the gentle smile on her lips as she stared down at him. His chest warmed up again, and he found himself smiling back at her.

“Hey”, he groaned, voice still sounding nasal and hoarse. Her warm smile widened.

“Hey”, she said softly. “Fell asleep again?”

“Yeah”, he groaned, thinking about attempting to sit up and deciding against the idea. He sighed miserably, shivering, and pulled his covers closer to himself. She clicked her tongue in sympathy.

“Why don’t I help you sit up a little so you can eat something? Then you can take your antibiotics and go back to sleep”, she suggested, even though Fitz knew that this was just her being gentle with him. Her tone, though tender, was nothing more than an incredible bedside manner, since he knew that this was not a suggestion, but an instruction. He didn’t exactly have the option of saying no and going back to sleep. Simmons was too stubborn to allow him so.

“I’m not really hungry, Jemma”, he groaned, burying his face into his pillow again. She sighed. “Really”, he added, before she could protest (like he knew she would). “I don’t think I could eat anything even if I tried”.

“You have to eat, Fitz”, she told him, a little more sternly than before, but gentle all the same. “I can’t let you wither away in bed because you refuse to take care of yourself”.

“I take care of myself”, Fitz protested meekly. “This is probably because those stupid pranks the seniors keep pulling on us”.

“Oh, Fitz, why didn’t you tell me?”, Simmons frowned in concern and guilt. “What did they do to you?”

“Threw me in the bloody swimming pool”, Fitz sighed, shivering when she touched her cool hand to his burning face again. “We’re not even freshmen anymore”, he complained bitterly, even though he didn’t really mind the pranks. He and Simmons knew that pranking was a natural tradition in the Academy, especially in Sci-Tech. In fact, they had even pulled some pranks of their own on their freshmen, as a welcoming ritual to the building. However, some of the older students held an obvious grudge against Fitzsimmons, since they were one of the youngest students to ever be accepted into the Academy, and this resulted on ill-hearted pranks that transcended the funny territory and became downright obnoxious. Fitz usually didn’t put much thought into it and tried to take these obnoxious pranks lightly, but he couldn’t deny that becoming bedridden in the middle of the semester because some jerks were jealous and threw him at a swimming pool right after dinner was more than he could take lightly. By the angry look in Simmons’ eyes, she seemed to be thinking the same.

“Have you spoken to Weaver?”, Simmons asked seriously, to which Fitz shook his head.

“It was just a stupid prank”, Fitz shrugged off, even if he didn’t really feel like it was. He didn’t exactly feel like fueling Simmons’ anger and getting himself into trouble with the older students, either. “It won’t happen again”.

“Yes”, Simmons responded simply, and Fitz, overcame by tiredness, sickness and fever, missed the dark look that passed her eyes. “It won’t happen again”.

There were a few seconds of silence in which Fitz began to doze off again, and Simmons stood up once more to fuss with something that the engineer didn’t bother to look at. Then, there were more pillows being propped beneath his head and, before Fitz could protest or even do anything to stop her, Simmons was helping him up into a sitting position, pulling him gently by the shoulders so that she could fit more pillows beneath him and keep him upright. When she finally finished fussing, Fitz was propped by six pillows into a half-sitting position in his bed, the covers that had been maintaining his warmth having slid down all the way to his waist. He shivered, feeling cold, and tucked both his hands beneath his armpits, trying to preserve some sense of heat. Simmons appeared in front of him with a small plastic tray that contained a glass with some orange liquid, two pills that he presumed to be his antibiotics, a mug of tea and his favorite sandwich: prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella with a hint of pesto aioli. He looked up at her with a sorrow-filled look in his eyes, alongside an unspeakable gratitude and a silent apology.

“You shouldn’t have, Jemma”, he told her sadly. “I won’t be able to taste it”, he explained. His nose felt so congested that it would be virtually impossible for him to be able to taste the delicious sandwich and give it the appreciation it deserved.

“It’s ok”, Simmons gave him an incredibly tender smile that she seemed to only ever direct towards Fitz, and no one else. “Even if you can’t taste it, it will still be delicious”, she raised a teasing eyebrow, and this earned a giggle from Fitz. “Now eat your sandwich and drink your tea”, she instructed motherly, standing beside his bed and crossing her arms above her chest. Fitz did as he was told and picked the sandwich up from the tray. Even though he was not hungry, and was still feeling a bit nauseous, he forced himself to take a bite if only to please Simmons. Making that sandwich took time and effort, especially because the ingredients weren’t exactly easily found in any deli. The fact that she had bothered to make him his favorite, even though she knew he was sick and probably wouldn’t be able to taste it, made his heart even warmer with affection and, despite of the fact that he was feeling like death warmed over, he finished eating the sandwich under her stern and protective gaze. Drinking the tea sounded like a nightmare, though, and he looked up at her with a pleading look in his eyes, but she merely raised an eyebrow and tilted her chin. “It will make you feel better”, she said, as if reading his reluctance. Grimacing despite of his best efforts, Fitz picked up the mug and drank the tea, wincing and shivering all the while.

“Argh”, he complained, placing the mug down on the tray and gazing at the orange liquid in the remaining cup. “And what is this?”, he asked Simmons, nodding at the cup.

“It’s vitamin C”, she explained, starting forwards as if unable to remain still on her feet for too long and picking up the antibiotics. She placed the pills on Fitz’s hand and handed him the cup, even though he could have easily done those things himself. “Drink up, it will make you feel better in the morning”, she instructed in that tone that left no room for a discussion. With a helpless sigh, Fitz swallowed the pills with the help of the vitamin C and, once he was done drinking the horrid juice, placed the cup noisily on the tray again.

“There”, he said, looking back up at Simmons. “Are you happy now?”, he asked, purposefully condescending, even though he really hoped she was happy. He was unmeasurably thankful for all the effort she was making to take care of him and aid him back to health, but to admit so felt like an unnecessary exposure of his feelings, for some reason. After all, Simmons knew him better than anyone in the world. She must know that he was grateful to her through only one look, right?

“Very”, she said simply, removing the tray from his lap and getting rid of some of the pillows propping him up so that he could go back to a lying position. She tucked him in and placed another hand against his forehead, clicking her tongue in disapproval once again. “Will your roommate stay out the whole night?”, she asked him objectively. Fitz frowned, having already closed his eyes again.

“I don’t know”, he said after a few moments of ponderation. It was usual for the guy to simply disappear for days in a row and only return to pick up some clothes and personal items. He rarely slept in their room anymore, and Fitz couldn’t exactly blame him. In fact, he was rather relieved that this was the case. This gave him more time, silence and privacy to work on his projects. “Why do you ask?”, he continued after Simmons simply hummed in acknowledgement.

“I’m staying over”, she announced, taking the pillows she had removed from Fitz’s bed back to his roommate’s bed. “Your temperature is still high and I want to keep an eye on you through the night in case you get worse”.

“Simmons”, Fitz sighed, a mixture of frustration and annoyance in his tone. “You don’t have to do this. I already took my medicine. I’ll be fine. Just let me sleep”, he basically begged. Simmons rolled her eyes.

“You can go to sleep. So will I, actually”, she added, removing her shoes and sitting at the roommate’s bed across from Fitz.  “Just…”, she hesitated, biting at her lower lip. “Call me if you need anything, ok?”

“You’ll get in trouble”, Fitz muttered, half-asleep. Simmons sighed.

“Does your roommate get in trouble for not sleeping in his room for several nights in a row?”, she asked decisively. Fitz sighed.

“I don’t know”, he admitted. “Probably not”. Simmons hummed contently.

“Then neither will I”, she concluded. “Just go to sleep and call me if you feel anything different, ok?”

“Ok”, Fitz gave in, knowing that Simmons was too stubborn to listen to him and feeling too tired to argue. He sighed again and relaxed against the pillows. Even though his eyes were already closed and he was more asleep than awake, he could still hear the tiny sounds Simmons was making as she finished tidying the room before going to bed. The door clicked open and close a few times, as she probably went to her room to retrieve her pajamas and got rid of the tray of food, and there were soft sounds of fussing until the lamp by Fitz’s bed finally clicked and the room was enveloped by darkness. The last sound he heard before he completely gave in to the slumber that was calling him was Simmons climbing his roommate’s mattress and settling herself into the covers. Before he could pass out completely, he managed to mutter a low “Thank you, Jems”, but didn’t stay awake for long enough to find out if she had heard him or not.

 

 

 

When he woke up next, he felt confused and disoriented, since he could barely remember what day it was or where he was. All he could see was Simmons’ worried face above him, coming in and out of focus, but he couldn’t concentrate on her or what she was saying no matter how he tried. It felt like he had been drugged; he couldn’t make sense of his surroundings and what was happening to him, and all he could feel was a never ending cold that seemed to freeze him to his bones and make him shiver and tremble, teeth rattling and chin quivering. Was he at the swimming pool again? Or was he somewhere worst? Had one of his experiments gone wrong? What was going on?

“Leo”, Simmons was saying above him, voice tight with emotion and oh no, were those tears in her eyes? Fitz couldn’t really tell. Everything seemed too blurry and unfocused for him to be sure. “Leo, please, tell me you can hear me”, she pleaded.

“Don’ call me Leo” was all Fitz managed to mumble and, noticing how harsh his words had sounded, added: “Please, Jems. Ye know I don’ like it”, he slurred, delirious with fever and sickness.

“All right, I’m sorry, monkey”, Simmons corrected herself, still sounding worried and miserable, albeit gentle. “But you’re really scaring me and I can’t hold your weight. I need you to stand up with me and come to the bathroom, ok?”, she asked, already pulling the covers away from Fitz’s shivering body and pulling him by the arm. Fitz didn’t comply, and she wasn’t strong enough to carry his deadweight by herself. “Come on, Fitz”, she urged, trying to pull him into sitting and failing. Fitz blinked confusedly at her.

“Why?”, he asked, voice slurred and tiny. He felt sick and miserable and he didn’t want to go to the bathroom. He wanted to stay in bed.

“Because your temperature”, Simmons groaned with the effort it took to pull Fitz out of bed by herself, “has been climbing”, another groan, “for the past hours”, another groan, “and you need a cold shower”, a final groan, followed by several pants. She gave up, finding that all she had managed with her effort was to drag Fitz a few inches from his previous position. She sighed. Fitz stared at her for a long time, his sluggish brain taking longer than it usually would to make sense of the expression on her face. She looked so miserable and worried that he decided that it couldn’t really hurt to put an effort into standing up and doing as she had asked. After all, she was his friend. He didn’t want her to be miserable. Or to be fed up with him, for that matter.

He groaned as he turned on his side, and once he got to his feet, the room around him swam and twisted. Before he knew better, he was falling back on the bed again. Simmons managed to hold him this time, and propped him in a sitting position until he regained his senses and blinked dumbly at her face, trying to focus his eyes.

“I’ll help you”, she said, passing one of his arms around her shoulder and helping him to stand up again. The whole endeavor seemed to have consumed all that was left of Fitz’s energy, and by the time they got to the tiny shower in the bathroom, he was leaning most of his weight on the panting Jemma, who was doing her best and mustering all of her strength to sustain him. She helped him sit down on the close-lidded toilet and unceremoniously pulled his shirt off, with a bit of effort as she struggled against his half-limp arms. She discarded the sweat-soaked shirt on an ungraceful pile on the floor and began to pull off his pajama pants, which took more effort than the shirt, since he was sitting down.

“C’mon, Fitz”, she groaned, panting with tiredness. “Lift your bum”, she instructed, groaning, but Fitz was apparently unconscious again, body slack and limp, only held in a sitting position because his fever-hot forehead was leaning against the shower box’s glass and his back was leaning against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall. Finally, after much effort, she managed to remove his pants completely, leaving him only on his boxer briefs. She did her best not to stare at the half-naked image of her best friend, trying to preserve some of his privacy. She pretended she was not blushing with embarrassment – Fitz was her patient right now, for god’s sake, there was no reason to be embarrassed! – and got the shower tap running, making sure the water would come out cold. Once everything was settled and Fitz’s clothes were pushed into a corner where they wouldn’t get in their way, Jemma placed his arm above her shoulders once again and miraculously managed to pull him in the shower without his help. The engineer, however, woke up as soon as the cold water contacted with his skin, and he hissed in pain and discomfort.

“Ow, Simmons, what –?”, he asked, confused, squinting his eyes at her and flinching heavily as the water soaked him, trying to get away from the stream. Simmons placed a steady, firm hand against his shoulder and held him in place beneath the water, ignoring the fact that her arms and most of her front were getting soaked as well.

“I’m sorry, Fitz, but you have to stay there just a bit longer, ok?”, she told him apologetically, but sternly. “Your fever is too high and I need to cool you down”.

She pretended her heart wasn’t breaking over the pitiful look Fitz gave her, pale face with flushed cheeks, glassy eyes and curly hair soaking and flattening over his forehead. His chin was quivering and rattling, arms limp and knees buckling under his weight. He looked miserable and sick and nothing like the Fitz Jemma was used to, vivid and playful and smart. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than for him to get back to health and she would be damned if she didn’t help him.

Eventually, he tried to shrink into himself, tucking his hands beneath his armpits and lowering his head, even though he was still trembling all over. Simmons stayed there, inside the shower with him, having already given up on trying to keep herself dry. She held him as firmly as she could, afraid that if she let go of him for even one second, he would lose balance and fall, hurting himself. Her arm was becoming numb when she finally deemed that he was cool enough to go back to bed, and he sighed in relief when she turned the tap off and grabbed him a towel.

Simmons helped Fitz out of the shower carefully and aided him in the process of drying himself, which was not as difficult as removing his clothes, since he seemed to be more alert and less sluggish than he had been before. Maybe the shower had done him some good, after all. It was only when he got to drying his legs that he paused awkwardly, as if only then realizing that his clothes were gone.

“Did you take my clothes off?”, he asked, sounding embarrassed. Simmons blinked blankly at him.

“Of course I did, how else would you take a shower?”, she frowned, trying to pretend she wasn’t equally embarrassed and sounding a bit too defensive for her own liking. “Oh, don’t worry, Fitz, it’s not like I stared at you or… or something”, she protested awkwardly. Fitz blushed. “I even left your underwear on!”, she pointed out victoriously, but the phrase had sounded better in her head.

“Thankfully”, Fitz commented, awkward, going back to drying his legs and feet. Once he was done, he hung the towel back and found that Simmons had brought him a change of dry clothes, as well as dry underwear. He picked them up, hoping that Simmons would take the hint and give him some privacy to get changed, but she simply stood there beside him, looking like she was afraid he would fall over any second now, and completely oblivious to the fact that Fitz needed to get naked in order to put on the new clothes. He stared at her for a while and, when she did nothing other than stare back, he cleared his throat. “Um, could you, eh, you know…”, he gave her an apologetic look nodding at the dry clothes at the sink. Her eyes widened and blood immediately rose to her face.

“Oh! Oh, right, of course”, she said, jumping into action and picking Fitz’s discarded pajamas from the floor. She seemed not to know what to do with herself, and hesitated for a few seconds before awkwardly exiting the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Fitz smiled fondly and got rid of his soaking underwear, not able to prevent himself from being a little embarrassed that Simmons had seen him like that. He would have to make her a big, big surprise as a thank for taking care of him like that when she really didn’t have to. However, he would have to save that for when he was feeling better. On that moment, all he wanted to do was slip back into his bed and sleep the rest of his sickness off until he was back at 100%. Even though he was feeling better after the shower, his bones still felt too heavy and his nose, too congested.

When he opened the bathroom door to get back to the room, he found that Simmons was sitting on her side at his bed, with her back turned to the bathroom and in the middle of the process of changing her shirt, which was probably also wet from the shower. Even though she was fast, Fitz still caught a glimpse of her with her shirt off, and couldn’t help but to blush in embarrassment and feel like he was intruding a personal moment, even though this was his own room. This wasn’t really a big deal – Simmons was his best friend, and he was hers, they were bound to have this kind of intimacy, right? Plus, she had also seen him not only basically naked, but also soaking wet. They were even now, right? This wasn’t a big deal. She was his best friend. There was no reason to be embarrassed. He climbed back into the bed as she began settling her hair, and she seemed surprised to see him already walking by himself.

“How are you feeling?”, Simmons asked him, a tired look on her face but her smile never faltering. Fitz sighed, pulling the covers around him even though he wasn’t feeling that cold anymore.

“A bit better”, Fitz said, turning on his side so that he could look at her properly. “Just really tired now”.

“Of course, you still need rest”, Simmons said, playing with her hair as she looked down at him. “I’m sure you will feel better in the morning”.

“You shouldn’t be so close to me right now”, Fitz finally admitted something that had been bothering him for a while now. “You’ll end up catching whatever I have”.

Simmons simply rolled her eyes, a look of affection in her face.

“You were thrown in a pool at night, Fitz, you didn’t exactly catch the black plague”, she teased, turning so that she could be closer to him, as if to prove her point. “This is just a cold. I won’t catch it. I’m a trained doctor”.

“Oh, so doctors are immune to disease, now?”, he teased, raising an eyebrow at her. She shoved his shoulder lightly, but chuckled all the same.

“No need to worry about me”, she reassured him, running her fingers through his hair in a way that she knew that he loved. He relaxed under her touch. “Worry about yourself. You need to get better before you miss another one of Professor Vaughn’s lovely lectures”.

“Oh no, I really can’t miss that”, Fitz chuckled, being accompanied by Simmons.

“Just go to sleep now”, Simmons said, never ceasing to run her fingers across his hair. “You’ll feel better in the morning, I’m sure of it”.

He closed his eyes contently, feeling a bit less miserable and incredibly better than before, even though he was still very much tired. He sighed and relaxed beneath Simmons’ touch, snuggling closer to her without really consciously realizing what he was doing. She stayed there, looking at how peaceful his face looked and how he seemed less pale than before. An eternity seemed to pass and she had actually thought Fitz was already asleep when he said:

“Thank you, Jems”, he mumbled, half-asleep. “You really didn’t have to”.

“Of course I had”, Simmons reassured him, still caressing his hair, a fond smile on her lips. “You’re my best friend in the world”.

“So are you”, Fitz sighed happily, and then he went silent once again. Simmons wasn’t sure whether or not he was already asleep, so she stayed there, playing with the curls in his hair and caressing it until tiredness overcame her as well and, before she even realized, she was also asleep beside her best friend, snuggled close to him on his bed and sharing the pleasant, comfortable warmth radiating from his body.

 

 

 

 

Fitz woke up to find that Simmons was cuddled next to him, his own arm thrown over her waist to keep her safely in place against his body. He inevitably flushed, but didn’t have too long to be embarrassed because, next thing he knew, there were tiny sneezing sounds coming from Simmons, muffled as the biochemist foolishly attempted to hide them from her best friend. Fitz sighed and rolled his eyes affectionately, pushing his covers up to cover her shoulders and planting a tiny kiss on the top of her flushed cheek.

“All right, Mrs. Trained Doctor”, he teased. “Time for me to take care of you”.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this story is based on Civil Wars's song of the same name!  
> Thank you so much for reading this! I just missed my science babies so much and wanted to remember how they used to be before all of the angst in the show. Just so you know, Jemma will kick the ass of the douches who pranked Fitz (as soon as she gets better, of course).  
> If you liked this story, leave me kudos and comments! They are what keeps me going and they make my day much happier. If there's something you didn't like about this story, feel free to leave constructive criticism on the comments as well!  
> You can always find me on tumblr as edema--ruh and on twitter as @girltaire.


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